Tale of the Lost
by Tari J. Deiter
Summary: Hoshi was two years old when she was taken from Konoha by Orochimaru. A child of both Hyuga and Uchiha lineage, she was deemed precious. But now, Orochimaru has no more use for her. Except for one. Now that Hoshi has run away from Otogakure and returned to Konoha, will she find a home in the place she had once left? Will anyone trust a Missing-Nin from a rival village? Book 1
1. Foreward, Prologue, Left Behind

_Hey guys. This is my third attempt at a Naruto fanfict. Now, before I get too far into it, I want to lay down a few groundrules. #1 you are allowed to review, but NO FLAMES! I deleted this story once and I won't hesitate to do it again. this time, for good. flames aggravate me. i hate them. so don't write them. this counts for every chapter in every single one of my stories. #2 don't take this story too seriously. naruto fans, apparently, have a tendency to do that. i'm just writing this story for fun, nothing more. #3 i don't want to see this show up in any community pages. i'm not looking to join a community. like i said, i'm writing for the fun of it._

_sorry, i had to rant. but there you have it. if you want to see how this story ends, becareful what you say. and don't ruin it for others._

_This is a 3-in one chapter: forward, prologue, chapter one. i'm a tad ocd and i like the chapter numbers to line up with the actual chapters._

_I do not own Naruto. Hoshi is mine and so are any characters you don't know about._

* * *

Foreword

Konohagakure. The Village Hidden in the Leaves. The Hidden Leaf Village. The Leaf Village. The Leaf. All of these are names pertaining to one village in the Fire Country: Konohagakure.

It was a relatively young village. Only little more than three half-centuries had passed since the First and Second Hokages, Hashirama and Tobirama Senju, stepped into this region and built the forests and stone walls around what was to be a new village. Since that day, Konohagakure was born.

Over the years, three Hokages—Ninjas of great skill—came and went; each one doing something different for the village. Each one left behind a legacy to be admired, followed, protected, and exceeded by the next generation.

Despite the First Hokage's building of the forests and the Second's creating of the small culture, no one could surpass the Fourth's legacy; capturing and sealing the Kyuubi—the Nine-tailed Demon Fox—into an infant boy . . . at the cost of his life. After all that, the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, had a lot to make up for after claiming the seat a second time in the Fourth's stead.

Lord Sarutobi was loved by a great many people and he loved them in return. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for the people of his village. After all, it was the Hokage's duty to take care of everyone he ruled over like family. The Third Hokage was a leader, teacher, father to the fatherless, and grandfather to the grandfather-less.

For all his greatness, Lord Sarutobi had another name; although no one who really loved and appreciated him ever said it:

Hiruzen the Fool.

* * *

Prologue

The chilly night air swept in through Konohagakure; raising goose bumps on the bare skin of anyone that could feel it.

Lord Orochimaru tugged his cloak closer to his body and stared down at the village he had once called "home". Now, he hated the village and everything it represented. He hated its name and its location. He hated the great mountain onto which the four stone faces had been carved: the four Hokages—Hashirama Senju, Tobirama Senju, Hiruzen Sarutobi, and Minato Namikaze. He hated the red, domed-shaped building where the Third Hokage now lay sleeping. He hated the temples where all the major clans were living. He hated the restaurants and pubs and apartment buildings. He even hated the Academy where his life as a Shinobi (Ninja) began. He even hated the Hokage, himself: Old man Hiruzen.

So why was Orochimaru standing on a hilltop overlooking Konohagakure? He was imagining its destruction. Picturing, very clearly in his mind, all the buildings aflame and the Hokage faces crumbling. He imagined the bodies piling up one-by-one—from the very young to the very old. Such thoughts caused a shiver of delight go up his spine and he smiled.

But that wasn't the only reason Orochimaru stood looking down at the pitiful Leaf Village. He was waiting on the appearance of his loyal spy, Kabuto Yakushi, who was coming up to meet him.

And he was not alone.

/|\

Hiroshi Hyuga was emotionally torn. Not that Hiashi—leader of the Hyuga clan—could blame him. Hiroshi was known to be generous, but quite forgetful and a little negligent. Two reasons why he never made it as a Shinobi.

Hiashi couldn't count the number of times he had gotten his younger cousin out of bad situations. All of them had been Hiroshi's fault. Now, this situation was beyond Hiroshi's fault. This incident was unforgiveable. Hoshi, Hiroshi's nineteen-month-old daughter, had been taken. Worse was the face she was most likely in possession of the clan's most notable trait—a trait the Hyuga jealously guarded with their lives.

_It's just as I feared! With Hoshi's being from two powerful clans, no wonder someone's taken her! I'm just surprised someone hasn't taken her before now._

Hiashi shook the thought from his mind, reminding himself that despite Hoshi's double lineage, she was still a Hyuga and, therefore, needed to be treated like a Hyuga. So, Hiashi was obligated to search for her just like he would for any other Hyuga child who had gone missing. Looking at Hiroshi's pleading expression, Hiashi knew his decision had been made for him.

"Sound the alarm! Alert the others!" Hiashi ordered.

"Yes, my lord." Hiroshi bowed and took off to do as was instructed.

/|\

Orochimaru watched as Kabuto approached his hill; walking nonchalantly with an air of smugness wafting around him. At first, Orochimaru wondered why Kabuto was bringing someone with him—a small child, no doubt—and was about to voice his concern when Kabuto spoke up.

"I believe she'll be of some use to you, Lord Orochimaru." Kabuto's voice was of a pacifying tone. One that Orochimaru hated to hear from him and would have gladly killed him for it—if he didn't need Kabuto so much, that is.

"Why would that be, Kabuto?" Orochimaru asked his child-spy, his voice tinged with venom.

"Look at her eyes." Kabuto said, gently pushing her forward.

Orochimaru lit a glow stick to see her face. By doing so, he bathed all three of them in a greenish light.

Kabuto was a handsome boy with black eyes nearly hidden behind circular glasses. His gray hair was kept in a ponytail and his short bangs framed the Konoha headband tied around his forehead.

Orochimaru had extremely pale-white skin with waist-length black hair. He had amber eyes with reptilian pupils and purple markings around each eye. A pale-white hand clutched the cloak to his throat and blue tomoe-shaped earrings hung from his earlobes, giving him a savage appearance.

While Kabuto was handsome and had an endearing aura about him, Orochimaru was the exact opposite. He wasn't handsome, and he wasn't ugly either, but there was an evilness that lurked about him.

Orochimaru knelt and held the glow stick aloft; illuminating the child's face. At once, he decided she wasn't much to look at. Only about average size and weight. She had skin the color of light-honey, black hair, and eyes the color of darkened metal. She wore a gray-white robe that extended to her bare feet and a peach-colored sash tied around her narrow waist. A blanket was draped across her shoulders. She stared at him with a thumb in her mouth.

"Tell me, Kabuto, what clan did you take her from?" Orochimaru asked.

"The Hyuga clan, Lord Orochimaru." Kabuto answered, with a smile that suggested he knew more than he was telling.

"Hyuga, huh? Perhaps she could come in handy with as powerful bloodlines as that." He gently took her face in his pale fingers. "But she's not pure Hyuga, is she?"

"Of course not, Lord Orochimaru. Look at her eyes. Are those the eyes of a Hyuga?" There, Kabuto had a point.

The Hyuga clan were renowned for their pale-lilac eyes—as well as the power behind them. The Hyuga clan had a strange and powerful Kekkei Genkai—bloodline's limit—called the Byakugan. A formidable Dojutsu—Eye Technique—that gave the user nearly x-ray-like vision. Other than this, Orochimaru knew nothing about the Hyuga clan's Kekkei Genkai. The clan protected its uses to an extreme.

Orochimaru touched the girl's forehead and dove deeply into her conscience. "She has incredible power." His mouth—already too wide for his face—split into a huge grin and his long tongue lazily swiped his nosetip.

"She should, Lord Orochimaru. She's half-Uchiha." Kabuto said.

"Both?" Orochimaru was surprised by this. Although it wasn't unheard of—of course it was rare—for people to marry and bare children outside their own clans, it was nearly inconceivable for a child to be born to two people of rival clans.

The Uchihas and the Hyugas were two, very old clans. In fact, they were the oldest clans within Konohagakure. However, they had different ideas on living. Or had very different stances on engagement in combat. The Hyuga believe that there can be a peaceful outcome and will only establish their fighting style when there is no other option. The Uchihas tended to rush in and take out the enemy, without any thought of peace.

Knowing this, Orochimaru patted the girl's raven-head; marveling at her lineage. He was even more amazed as Kabuto pointed something else out. "I've already checked the records in the Hokage's library. According to her file, Hiashi Hyuga had her tested and it's been confirmed. She's capable of using both the Byakugan and the Sharingan."

"The Sharingan!" Orochimaru couldn't hide the quiver of excitement that ran up his body. Out of all the Dojutsus Orochimaru most desired, the Sharingan was at the top of his list.

The Sharingan was an extremely powerful Dojutsu, giving the user the ability to read and copy techniques and, thus, enabling the user to perform them perfectly. And, the very sight of the Dojutsu gave the user a rather demonic appearance.

Orochimaru touched the girl's forehead, again—he was amused by how calm she seemed to be throughout all this. But, as he probed her mind, he was angered by the feeling of a Seal.

"I feel a barrier." he said, disappointed.

"Yes, my Lord." Kabuto said, looking a little uncomfortable now. "It's placed around the Sharingan. Probably just Hiashi's way of making her as Hyuga as possible. The fool."

"No matter." The older Ninja said. "The Seal will be easily broken. It was poorly prepared." With that, he flattened his palm against her pale forehead and raised his other hand in a half-Sheep Handseal. "Nemuri—sleep." and she slumped limply into his arms. He picked her up and placed her over his shoulder.

"You did well, Kabuto."

The young Shinobi smirked and bowed. "Thank you, Lord Orochimaru. I'm glad to be of some service to you."

/|\

For the next several days afterward, the Hyugas continued searching for Hoshi; eventually having to ask the other clans and Shinobi to aid in their search. Even the Third Hokage dropped everything and helped. But all their looking was done in vain. There was no sign of the missing toddler, and no body to put their minds at ease. No one knew who could've taken young Hoshi Hyuga or where she could've gone.

Except for Orochimaru's spy, Kabuto Yakushi, of course.

* * *

Chapter One  
Left Behind

Otogakure—The Hidden Sound Village—had no fixed location. In fact, it moved from place to place—never staying in one spot for more than a few weeks at a time. At the moment, the villagers had stuck around in one underground dwelling just north of the Fire Country and east of the Wind Country. And we had been there for a couple months. I know, because I was one of the few who moved from place to place. And since we had been here for far longer than was normal, I was beginning to get bored.

/|\

The air in the underground arena was warm. Very warm. I felt my forehead starting to dampen beneath the hood I was wearing to keep my braids in check. My mask sucked up moisture from my breath; billowing out with each exhalation. My eyes were focused; never moving from my targets.

Yes, targets. Twelve to be exact.

My day had started out pretty normal. I awoke in my chambers under my own discipline. Brushed my black hair and quickly twisted it into three braids—one very large down my back and two smaller to frame my cheeks—washed my face, dressed into my village-issue uniform with my chosen weapon stuck into the back of my belt, and headed out to breakfast.

Breakfast in the "grand" dining hall was always a battle-zone of verbal extremities. There was never a quiet moment and the noise was nearly deafening. Genin—lower-level Shinobi—shouted challenges to the other Shinobi. Chunin—mid-level Shinobi—both yelled out and accepted or denied challenges. And Jounin—high-level Shinobi—only accepted or denied challenges.

Every morning, I was assaulted by someone's desire to fight me. I had long since given up on not being noticed. Everyone noticed me. Also, over the years I had developed a reputation amongst the other Shinobi. I was some sort of object every Shinobi in the village targeted—or wanted to target—for defeat. At first it was a little odd to me to be challenged openly like that but I got used to it. And I usually accepted all challenges.

This morning was no different. I walked into the oversized dining hall, grabbed my breakfast, and took a seat in a corner by myself. I had only taken a few bites of my hot porridge when I heard the heavy clumping of sandals against the packed earth floor. I didn't bother to look up. I could sense twelve pairs of eyes glaring down on me.

I smiled into my fruit juice. _Hmm, twelve Shinobi. That's a better number than yesterday._

"Chisana Ichi! We challenge you to a duel."

I've always contemplated why anyone would give me such an obscure nickname. Chisana Ichi meant "Little One", and I was not little in any sense of the word. I was of average height and weight for a fourteen-year-old girl, and I was skilled far better in weaponry than anyone else in the village (I had learned weaponry 101 when I reached the age of five, which is unusual for anyone who aspires to be a Shinobi). I also had a large library of special Jutsus—Techniques—at my disposal to use (a knowledge not near as large as my Shishou's, but still fairly vast). I had undergone a rigorous training regiment since I was three—also unusual for an aspiring Ninja but Shishou wanted me in prime condition.

I had learned how to expand my lung capacity for Wind Techniques and had the palms of my hands and the inside of my mouth hardened for Fire Techniques (my two primary nature types). I had obtained the speed for Lightning Techniques, the strength for Earth Techniques, and the flexibility for Water Techniques. (I was capable of learning Jutsus for all nature types.) _Still_ many referred to me as Chisana Ichi.

Though, now that I consider it, some of the Shinobi within the village were bigger and heavier than me, so I probably was Chisana Ichi to them. However, I found the nickname to be somewhat insulting because the words Chisana Ichi could also be translated as Chisana On'nanoko—"Little Girl". Some have called me Chisana On'nanoko before and such words usually ended badly for them. So has Utsukushi (beautiful), Kawai (cute), and Kanari (pretty). Only two men were allowed to call me such things. One being my Shishou, the other being the boy who saved my life: Kabuto Yakushi. And they used those words far less often than the jerks in the village. Usually Kabuto called me by my name: Hoshi.

Most of the time it was just Chisana Ichi or Chisana On'nanoko, just to rile me up—which always happened to work. And I would respond with an insult in kind. Usually Shibō (fat), Busu (ugly), Kōshū (foul breath), and Noroma (slowpoke).

"What say you, Chisana Ichi? Do you accept?"

I slowly put the glass of juice down and scooped another spoonful of porridge into my mouth; swirling the warm mush between my cheeks. I knew, by now, my challengers were fuming. And I was enjoying every minute of it.

"Hey! Didn't you hear what I said? We challenge you to a duel—all twelve of us against you! Do you accept?"

I scooped another spoonful into my mouth; still ignoring his request. Shishou told me not to be quick about accepting challenges. If someone wanted it badly enough, they would be the more persistent ones. I agreed with him. Only my philosophy was, one had to be persistent _and_ lack hesitation before I would even consider accepting the challenge. If I was going to fight, it had to be worth my time.

Apparently these guys thought they were worth my time, for the loud-mouthed speaker grabbed my porridge bowl and threw it at the wall.

_There goes my breakfast!_ I thought, coolly setting my spoon down on the table and wiping my mouth off on a napkin.

"You know, it's very rude to interrupt someone while they're eating—and even more-so to take their food away?" I said. I didn't expect them to answer my question and, thankfully, they didn't.

"Like I care." the speaker said. I immediately dubbed him the name Oshaberi—Loudmouth—for his incredibly loud vocal tones. "Now, are you going to accept our challenge or not?"

I sized them up. All were males in their early to mid teens or twenties. All carried a weapon of sorts. And they were taller and burlier than me. Their eyes stared down at me with the seriousness of an adamant challenger. But I wasn't completely convinced.

I scanned each of their faces; noting the stony set of muscles in their cheeks and jaws and the fire of battle in each of their eyes—each unique to the person. Once I realized their faces wouldn't give them away, I tried their eyes; scanning each colored orb with care until my gaze was drawn back to the face of the youngest one in the gang.

A boy of only sixteen. His auburn eyes suddenly flashed with hesitation, the expression quickly disappearing as fast as it had come. But it was long enough for me to see it and give me reason enough to deny them the right to challenge me.

I finished my fruit juice, wiped my mouth, and made my way toward the cafeteria exit—my appetite ruined by the sight of porridge running down the wall.

"Move it, Busu! Come back when you are truly ready to fight me." I said, darkly brushing by them.

"We _are_ ready!" Oshaberi snapped, impatient that I was denying him his right to challenge me and angry that I had just insulted them. He whipped out his broad sword and laid it against my neck and shoulder.

I stopped and waited. If he truly wanted to, he could lop off my head and I wouldn't fault him. But I knew he wouldn't dare kill me here and now. Doing so would make him a coward and in our village, cowardice was not tolerated. Our village had no place for cowards, and he knew it.

"Not all of you are." I said. "One of you hesitates. Now, I will give you the option to remove the one who is not ready, or all of you must withdraw your decision to fight me."

Oshaberi looked back at his companions, his sword hand never wavering—which was impressive to say the least because sword was huge.

"Which one of you is it?"

No one spoke and all their faces were evenly composed. It occurred to me they were all afraid of me, but were more afraid of Oshaberi and, therefore, were not willing to say a word. So Oshaberi returned his attention to me.

"Nice try, Chisana Ichi. Perhaps it is _you_ who hesitates. Perhaps it is _you_ who is not ready to fight us."

I closed my eyes and smirked. "I don't hesitate, nor am I never unready to fight anyone."

The loud mouth pressed harder on my neck with his blade until the edge nicked my skin. "Then fight us!"

"No thanks, Busu." I said, dropping my shoulder and moving out of line of his sword; I started out the cafeteria toward the training room where I could practice in peace. Then, he said something that stopped me in my tracks.

"Are you afraid, Futatsu no Shizoku no Musume?"

I looked over my shoulder at my twelve competitors—not one of them was the least bit hesitant now. But that wasn't what concerned me. What had was the fact he had used one of my names: Futatsu no Shizoku no Musume—Daughter of Two Clans.

I was known by two titles, but everyone knew me by my first and only a few knew me by my second. Futatsu no Shizoku no Musume being the one that referred to my double lineage—a descendant of two powerful clans with very strong Jutsus.

"So, you know me? Or, at least you know of me." I said, coldly.

"Of course. You are Deshi no Orochimaru. The one chosen to walk beside him on his journeys." Oshaberi said.

Deshi no Orochimaru—Apprentice of Orochimaru—was my second title and referred to my once lofty position beside Shishou. But everyone who used this title took for granted the fact I was no longer as close to Shishou as they assume.

"In that case, get some more fighters. You're going to need them." I said.

"Nah. I think twelve will be enough." He said. He pointed his sword at me, bolstering his companions' confidence. "Do you accept our challenge or not?"

I looked at them a minute. Then, "Very well. Meet me in the arena. We shall see who is greater in battle. Me—Deshi no Orochimaru—or the twelve of you."

So, we met in the arena. All twelve of them armed to the teeth with their chosen weapons; me with only a cob of wood and eleven years of training.

I stood in the center of the arena, my opponents arranged themselves in a circle. They checked their weapons for sharpness, weight, and stability. I patted my right thigh—where I kept my Kunai holster—and my left back pocket—where the pouch of my Ninja tools were kept—and the back of my belt—where my cob was kept. Then, tying my three braids together with a leather thong, I tucked the lot up inside the hood I always wore in battle and covered the lower half of my face with a mask.

We waited.

Then, one Shinobi stepped forward; swinging a long, thin Katana in a meaty fist; cocky overconfidence flashing in his yellow and purple eyes. It surprised me that Oshaberi wasn't the one to come at me first and I silently called him a coward.

"Yah!" The Katana-wielder shouted.

I stood there as though I didn't even notice him. At least, not until he was almost on top of me. Then, I dropped on one knee—tripping him as he hadn't expected me to do that—and shut my eyes.

"Shyakugan!"

Suddenly, I could see everything. I saw the outlines of the people around me—white with flares of blue in their cores against a black background. And I could see their every angle in their body. I could predict their every move.

I stayed down and took out my short cob of wood. I grasped it in both thumbs while forming the Snake Handseal around it.

"Mokuton: Nagai Mokutsue no Jutsu!—Woodstyle: Long Staff Technique!" Instantly, the cob lengthened into a long fighting staff.

"Yah!" The Katana-wielder shouted. He had already gotten to his feet again and was coming at me.

I spun, caught his sword arm with a swing of the staff and struck him hard int he gut with the flat of my palm.

"Kaze no Kabe Sho!—Wind Wall Palm!"

_Bam!_ His Chakra network was blocked. He staggered and I whacked his legs out from underneath him.

The next one obviously thought he could do better. He threw a string of Shuriken at me. I easily deflected them; my two Dojutsus (the Sharingan and the Byakugan) showed me the direct path they were traveling. He ran at me with a few more Shuriken in his fingers. I dropped down and kicked him underneath the chin with one foot and floored him with the other.

Two more rushed forward, hoping to confuse me with a combined attack. I jumped out of the way, disabled one with my staff, and pinned the other to the wall with eight Kunai Knives. I disarmed seven others using nothing more than Taijutsu—body techniques—even turning their own weapons against them. I kept working until there was only one left: Oshaberi.

And his big sword would do little to protect him.

I laid the staff down, widened my stance, and leaned over with my arms stretched out wide—one higher than the other.

"Hakke Rokujuryon Sho!—Eight-Trigrams Sixty-Four Palm!"

What happened next was faster than the eye could follow. As he rushed at me with his heavy blade raised, I ducked underneath his downward swing, and tagged him in two spots with two fingers. "Ni sho!—Two Palm!"

I tagged in him two more spots. "Yon sho!—Four Palm!"

Four spots. "Hassho!—Eight Palm!"

Eight spots. "Jyuuroku sho!—Sixteen Palm!"

Sixteen spots. "Sanjussho!—Thirty-two Palm!"

Thirty-two spots. "Rokujyuu yonsho!—Sixty-four Palm!"

Oshaberi fell over, his Chakra points had been collapsed. I straightened up and stared down at him. "How? How did you do that?" he asked.

I touched my face where my two Dojutsus were still alight above my cheeks. "My Shyakugan allows me to see your Chakura Keiraku—Chakra network. You can't hide anything from these eyes."

He closed his eyes, now ashamed he had misjudged me. "I'm sorry. I should've known better than to challenge you, Deshi no Orochimaru."

I ignored this and looked around—I was also a scavenger and I took what I liked from the enemies I defeated, and as long as I had use of them, I kept them. I saw the Katana, a few Shikomizus (cane swords), a Shirasoya (white scabbard sword), a Hachiwara (skull breaker sword), two Nagamaki (long wrapping swords), a Wakizashi (side inserted sword—a very thin weapon), a Kusarigama (Chain sickle), a Bisa-to (pole sickle), and a Tsurugi (broad sword).

I had a collection of weapons I almost never used because my staff was all I needed. Sometimes, I used the weapons I took but only if I thought the staff wasn't going to be enough. Today, I picked out the Tsurugi, Kusarigama, and Bisen-to.

When I was finished, I heard clapping and I looked up at a twenty-year-old man standing on a balcony overlooking the arena. I knew the man as Kabuto Yakushi, my savior from all those years ago, and I respected him more than most Ninja here.

"Well done, Hoshi! Well done indeed!" Kabuto said.

I stuffed my staff back into my belt, hung the Tsurugi sheath diagonally over one shoulder, looped the Kusarigama over my other shoulder, and stuck the Bisen-to through it. Then, releasing my two Dojutsus, I jumped up onto the balcony beside my favorite Shinobi.

"About time you got here." I said. "You need to find me better contestants. These guys were pathetic . . . and there were twelve of them! Hardly worth my time."

Kabuto chuckled. "Unfortunately, Hoshi, I'm sure you've beaten everyone in the village. At this point, there is no one else who can challenge you and expect to come out the victors."

"You're wrong about that, Senpai. I have _not_ beaten you or the Otokage."

I did not miss the smile tug at Kabuto's face when I called him by the title of respect. But, when I mentioned my desire to fight him and Shishou—the Otokage—he stared at me, hard. I knew what he was going to say.

"I can't fight you, Hoshi. I'm busy. And so is Orochimaru-sama—Lord Orochimaru. Neither of us have the time for your petty battles of power."

"Petty? _They_ challenged _me_ and they were really persistent about it." I pointed out.

"How persistent?" Kabuto asked.

I pointed to the owner of the Tsurugi. "He lead this band, kept calling me out, called me Chisana Ichi or Chisana On'nanoko. He threw my porridge at the wall. If that's not persistence, I don't know what is."

Kabuto followed the line of my pointing finger. "Who?—" he said the guy's name but I didn't pay attention to it. To me, the baka—idiot—will always be Oshaberi.

I let my hand drop. "Yeah. Him." It was getting tougher to breathe with the wet mask on, so I drew it off my face. Besides, I knew Kabuto was uncomfortable talking to me while I wore it and he wouldn't continue straight conversations anyway. "Do we really have no one better in the village besides you and Shishou?"

"What about the Oto no Yoninshu?" Kabuto asked. He smirked, already knowing the answer.

"Shishou made them off limits." I said, matter-of-factly.

Oto no Yoninshu—The Sound Four—are Shishou's bodyguards. I don't know much about them. Shishou made sure their powers (or anything else about them except for their names) were kept a secret. But, everyone could assume the four teens were powerful. A Shinobi could not be in Shishou's presence, or at his side, without having some sort of power. In a way, I was envious of Oto no Yoninshu's position, because in the same day I was shoved aside and dismissed as Deshi no Orochimaru, Oto no Yoninshu was born. They were with him all the time. I only got to see him every so often. Even Kabuto got to see him more often than I did. And Kabuto didn't even live here. He was a spy for Shishou in Konohagakure and everyone in Otogakure knew it.

Kabuto reached out to touch my shoulder, only to stop in mid-motion, look over his shoulder at another Shinobi hiding in the shadows.

"What is it, Ukon?" Kabuto snapped. I knew right away Kabuto really disliked Ukon. Then again, there wasn't much to like when it came to the pale-skinned teen.

"Otokage-sama wishes to speak with Lady Hoshi." said Ukon with as much politeness as he could muster . . . considering the circumstances.

"She'll be there! Now get out of here!" Kabuto shouted in a hard voice.

Ukon bowed, the arena's low lights flashed off the top of his white head, then shuffled off; back to Shishou's side.

Kabuto watched him with a deep scowl, then turned back to me. "Look, Hoshi, don't lose hope. I'm sure there are other Shinobi out there. Ones that will test your abilities to your limits. Trust me, you'll find other Shinobi. Ones _other_ than Orochimaru-sama and me."

I gave him a small smile. "Arigato—Thank you—Kabuto." I said.

He chucked me on the chin, then jerked his head out the hall. "Go. You don't keep Orochimaru-sama waiting."

I saluted and headed out without another word. While I ran—my new toys making "musical" noises on my back—I whipped off my hood and stuffed it in the back of my belt and untied my braids from their thong. When I reached Shishou's throne room, I stopped, took a breath, and went in.

The first thing I noticed were the three Shinobi and the one Kunoichi flanking a large stone throne. Two bowls of lanterns were alive at the foot of each armrest on the floor. Then, I noticed Shishou.

From my youth, I had always considered Shishou to be a little strange—almost snake-like in appearance. His pale-white skin nearly glowed in the candle-lit darkness, and his golden eyes complete with narrow slits overshadowed by purple markings over each eye pierced even the darkest of spaces into a person's soul. He was seated in his throne; bone-white hands clenched on the edges of his chair.

I stepped into the room and knelt at the foot of his throne; never moving unless instructed.

"Raise, Hoshi." Shishou said, and we rose at the same time. Shishou stepped down off the throne and embraced me. I hugged him back, noticing that despite the fact he was in his early fifties, the man never changed.

"I'm glad to see you, Shishou." I said, gently.

"I'm glad to see you, too." he said. "It's a pity we cannot spend as much time together as we used to."

I said nothing. It was a rhetorical statement anyway.

"I have called you here today because I need you to hold down the fort until I return. I have special business in the Kaze no Kuni—Wind Country—that needs attending to." Shishou said, jumping straight to business.

"Couldn't I go with you?" I asked in half-protest.

"No. You are the one I trust most to keep everyone in line. Besides, I'll only be gone a few days. Don't worry." Shishou answered, stroking my face with his slender fingers.

Without waiting for me to respond, he left the room with Oto no Yoninshu at his heels. And I could do nothing to stop him.


	2. Kimimaro

_Chapter two. You guys have done really well so far without making flames and what-no. seriously though, reviews are fine._

**_Disclaimer:_** _I don't own Naruto, obviously. Hoshi is mine and so are any characters you don't know about._

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Chapter Two  
Kimimaro

Hours after Shishou left with Oto no Yoninshu to Kaze no Kuni, I found myself in the training hall, venting my anger on the straw dummies arranged in regular and irregular intervals around the room. I had set my new collection of weapons aside until I was ready to use them. At least until I could think clearly enough to use them.

Normally, thrashing about with my stick took out a lot of my anger and frustration. But this time, the only thing I could think about was being abandoned yet again—left behind to hold down the fort until Shishou's return. I felt worthless . . . unwanted . . . unneeded . . .

Unnecessary.

It frightened me. Shishou had no use for worthlessness and unnecessary things. To him, Shinobi were things. Expendable items. I knew he felt that way about people, but I never thought _I_ would end up in that same frame of mind as everyone else under Shishou.

/|\

My relationship with Shishou had varied throughout my youth. First, I was his Hihogosha—ward—and he was my Kangosha—guardian. But, I never called him Kangosha. I called him Otousan—father—and he welcomed me to call him Otousan. For seventeen months, I was taught how to survive in the wild. We stayed in hiding until Otousan was sure everyone was done looking for me.

Then, at the age of three, Otousan told me I was too old to be a Hihogosha and, therefore, didn't need a Kangosha. He told me to call him Sensei—teacher—for he was going to begin my training in the arts of a Ninja.

He took me around the world, teaching me new Jutsus all the time. Whenever we came to a new village, he would introduce me as Futatsu no Shizoku no Musume. He threw the phrase around like it was supposed to mean something. And apparently it did because people would look at little old me with reverence and awe . . . and fear. I never understood the fear thing until Sensei explained that I was that I was special . . . extraordinary . . . unique. There weren't many people like me that was capable of doing the things I can and would soon be able to do.

During my time with him, he had gathered a good number of capable Shinobi. Some of them helped with my training; teaching me new Jutsus that I had to master before learning a new one. I once had a buki no senmonka—weapon's specialist—as a sensei who taught me the uses of all weapons in existence. But, when it came time for me to choose my own weapon, I hacked a branch form a special tree whose bark absorbed Chakra—energy—and imbued in it my own Chakra while I cut. Having chosen the staff as my primary weapon, I as put through special training on how to combine Jutsus with my staff.

During that time, I saw little to nothing at all of my Sensei. I had been nine when Sensei pulled me aside. Having created a new village for special Shinobi like me, he was now too busy to oversee my training and my apprenticeship with him was eliminated. While everyone knew me by Futatsu no Shizoku no Musume, my second title still stuck. Orochimaru no Deshi. Since that day, Kangosha, Otousan, and Sensei became obsolete titles—replaced with Shishou.

For the past five years, I've tried gaining a place back in Shishou's eyes, ever so wary I may have lost it without meaning to. I would do everything he asked. I didn't accept challenges willy-nilly like most Shinobi were known to. I fought bravely and hard; beating anyone in the arena with me. Yet, some how, I was always left behind. And that frustrated me more than anything.

/|\

I leaped around the room, swinging my stick up, down, left, and right. But no matter how tired I got just from beating the living daylights out of bound straw—or how sore my hands were from the vibrations in the stick—I just got angrier and more frustrated and it only got worse as my fight progressed. Several times, I landed wrong and fell over, but I did nothing to correct those mistakes. I was too absorbed in my own ocean of self-hatred and wrath to care. To care about my own well-being, how ashamed Shishou would be if he saw how I was acting now.

In another heat of anger; I toppled the final dummy and whaled on it with my stick, ignoring the throbbing vibrations that jolted the nerves in my hands.

_Stay at the hideout, Hoshi! Stay here and guard the hideout, Hoshi! I never get to go anywhere fun!_ I thought with bitter resentment clouding my reasoning. I replayed the earlier reasons from Shishou in my head and—even to me now—they seemed pathetic.

_I need you here! I need you to guard the hideout! You're too valuable for this mission! Hah!_—still pathetic excuses to me—"He always goes on missions with those four freaks!" I yelled that last sentence aloud, punctuating each word and syllable with a hard blow to the already dismantled dummy with my staff.

Then, I dropped the staff and bounded away, backwards, forming Handseals as I went:

Hebi. Hitsuji. Saru. I. Uma. Tora—Snake. Ram. Monkey. Boar. Horse. Tiger.

"Katon: Goukakyuu no Jutsu!—Firestyle: Great Fireball Technique!"

A jet of flame issued from my mouth and expanded around the fallen dummy. I watched the fire eat away at the dried hay. My hand shaded my eyes against the red, orange, and yellow glare; sweat forming on my forehead and face. The heat from the fire technique was intense. The fire didn't take long to die down; leaving behind a pile of ashes which I kicked at with the toe of my shoe, remaining oblivious to the heat.

I had hoped that by seeing the destroyed dummy, I would get a feeling my future would get better. Instead, my future appeared in a different form: what would happen if I remained useless to Shishou.

I plopped my butt on the floor and cradled my face in my arms.

"What's wrong with me?" I sobbed.

"Are you alright?"

I jumped up—staff in hand—and whirled around at the sound of a soft masculine voice in the doorway behind me. I had calmed down some, but having been caught in the moment of weakness caused me to feel ashamed and to be afraid of my imminent death—that's what happens in Otgakure; you show weakness, you die.

I kept my staff level with the visitor's chest; not wanting to lower my guard until I was sure the guy was just curious . . . and harmless.

"Who are you?" I demanded, haughtily ignoring the common courtesy of giving my own name before asking for his.

"Kimimaro, last of the Kaguya clan." my visitor said, gently.

"Never heard of it." I said.

"It's an extinct clan. You'll never hear of it again." he said.

I continued to stare at him. He had pale skin, vivid green eyes, a very manly face that was softly expressed to a point where my Shyakugan couldn't read him. Red lines ran across his lower eyelids and two red dots were tattooed on his forehead. His silver-white hair hung down to his shoulders and was tied in two places with red tubes. He was dressed in the village-issued attire of a knee-length gray robe, with a purple rope belt tied n a knot behind his back, black slacks, and black sandals. I noticed that he had shunned the headband and turtleneck. An all-white yin-yang sign stitched onto the bottom of the robe. The robe's neckline scooped down from his shoulders and exposed a manly chest where a circular pattern of three curved lines were applied to the base of his throat. His ankles were supported by bandages that disappeared up the legs of his slacks.

Despite his odd appearance, I didn't see him as much of a threat. He carried no weapons that I could see and his posture was relaxed. I lowered my staff and released the extending technique on it.

"What's your name?" he asked, politely as he sat down on the floor, having taken a few steps toward me.

I released the Dojutsus and sat down, too. "Hoshi." I said.

Kimimaro regarded me a moment, then said "You mean Futatsu no Shizoku no Musume?"

"That's me." I said, none-too-excited about the title given me in my youth.

My response made Kimimaro more curious about me. "If you're Futatsu no Shizoku no Musume, aren't you also Deshi no Orochimaru?"

His knowledge of my second title startled me. Some who did know it, tried to bait me with it. Others were close enough to Shishou to know its significance. _Was this guy close to Shishou at one time?_

"There are few who are privy to that information." I said. "How did you come by it?"

"I was once a member of Oto no Yoninshu. Back when it was Oto no Goninshu—Sound Five—that is." Kimimaro said.

His response struck me as odd. First, I couldn't imagine him as one of Shishou's bodyguards. Second, he didn't sound proud of the fact he had once stood close to Shishou. Or, maybe it was just how he spoke was all.

"_You _were one of the Oto no Yoninshu?" I asked.

He nodded. "At one time, yes." he said. "But, I had a moment of weakness and Sakon defeated me as leader."

I said nothing. I could see Sakon exploiting someone's weakness for his own gain. Sakon and Ukon were twin brothers. Both were powerful beings capable of lots of terrible things. They didn't appear to be very strong but there was just he illusion they possessed. They had coordinated attacks that made them more deadly than everyone else inside and outside Oto no Yoninshu. Yes, that was why nobody liked the Yuugure no Aojiroi—White Twins. And we all had reasons not to like them.

Kimimaro cocked his head at me, his vivid eyes staring right at me. I'm sure my thoughts were readable on my face. I pride myself for staying stoic . . . for being unreadable. But I was still upset about being flung aside like a rag. I was capable of doing anything.

"You okay?" he asked again.

"I am now." I said.

"You have an odd expression on your face. What are you thinking about?" he asked.

Normally, I would've taken offense to someone calling my facial expressions odd. But, at this point, I didn't even care. I shrugged.

"I—I just can't imagine you being with Oto no Yoninshu. You just don't seem like you belong with people like the Yuugure no Aojiroi, Jirobo, Kidomaru, and Tayuya. You're too—mild-looking for that." I said.

Kimimaro just stared, as though uncertain of how to respond to that. I didn't even know the guy and already I was being too forward with my observations. That was something I should do if I knew more about him. Besides his name and clan—and the fact he was with Oto no Yoninshu.

"Sorry to disappoint you." Kimimaro said.

I bent my head in shame. Kimimaro looked like he was a few years older than me but, because he was older and male, I had to respect him.

We remained quiet, then "Redecorating?"

I looked up and saw Kimimaro was looking around at my attempts to be rid of my rage. I looked around, too, and was stunned by all the damage I managed to do in so little time. There was not a single dummy left on their stands. The wooden targets were split, cracked, or entirely broken in two or more pieces. The stands were chipped or snapped in half. Strands of hay were covering the floor in a thin layer of straw carpetting. Only one dummy was truly missing and that was the one I had spat fire at.

"No." I said. "Just . . . releasing my anger."

"Looks to me like you had more anger than you should have." Kimimaro said.

I didn't answer, only because it was true. I did have anger problems. Usually, I could hold it back and not let it take over. But this last time of being left behind was the final straw. I couldn't handle it anymore.

At one time, Shishou taught me "Anger clouds judgment. Without judgment, mistakes are made. In the world of the Ninja, mistakes are deadly." It was a lesson I understood well. But throughout much of my youth, I still got fairly angry. In my training sessions with Shishou, I would get frustrated. He would keep alluding my attempts at defeating him. I would get mad and attack willy-nilly. He would hit me; the severity of the slap would grow and grow the angrier I got until I figured out getting enraged wasn't working. I had learned the hard things the hard way. The easy stuff I was quick to learn and that was why I got to this position so far.

"So, what were you so mad about?" Kimimaro asked.

"Why the hell is that your business?" I asked, in a vicious and unnecessary manner.

"You're right. It isn't my business. But you look like you could do with a conversation." Kimimaro answered in a soft voice.

"What makes you think I'm in need of a conversation?"

"Well you just trashed the training room in a fit of rage and you're still not completely out of steam." Kimimaro answered. "You might feel better if you talked about it. If not me, who else? I'm least likely to say anything . . . and I won't judge."

"If I tell you, I'm going to have to kill you." I said with all seriousness.

Kimimaro gave me a small smirk. "Have fun with that. You might find that difficult."

I didn't comment on that. I didn't care anyway.

We stared at each other; green eyes on black-grey. I've been known to be incredibly stubborn. But this guy had already outstubborned me. He could probably tell I was mulling over his proposition. Kimimaro probably _was_ the best choice. If I tried to tell anyone else about my anger issues and how upset I was over Shishou abandoning me yet again, I would appear weak which was something I just couldn't afford to have. Weakness and cowardice were two things that got you killed faster than any other infraction in existence and were frowned upon more than thievery or murder.

I took a deep breath and told him everything; leaving nothing out—except for my Jutsus which are supposed to remain a secret until the last possible moment. He sat in absolute silence, watching and listening to me with absolute attentiveness; waiting for me to finish with my speech. When I was finished, he took a deep breath.

"Have you done anything to make him decide not to use you?" he asked. It wasn't a question I was expecting to hear.

"Not that I know of." I said.

"What about your anger? Do you suppose he isn't using you because of your uncontrollable rage?" Kimimaro asked.

"My rage isn't uncontrollable." I put in. "I just get frustrated sometimes."

"That didn't answer my question, Hoshi." Kimimaro said.

It surprised me that he called me Hoshi, my name. He was taller than me and could, by all rights, call me Chisana Ichi. When I pointed this out, he cocked his head at me.

"Why would I call you that? I would think you would consider that an insult. Besides, it's not your name, right?"

"Right." I agreed.

"And it isn't one of your offical titles. Therefore, I shall call you whatveer name you choose. Which is it?"

I thought about it. "Do me a favor and call me Chisana Ichi just this once."

"Chisana Ichi." Kimimaro said after a moment's pause. It sounded okay.

"Now, Chisana On'nanoko." I said.

"Do many call you that?"

"Just do it."

"Chisana On'nanoko."

Eh, I didn't like that as well, even coming from him. "Just call me Hoshi or Futatsu no Shizoku no Musume."

"But not Deshi no Orochimaru?"

"In case you missed it, I'm not close to Shishou any more." I pointed out.

"Ah. So, I guess that means that title is obsolete." Kimimaro said.

"I guess." I said.

"You still didn't answer my question." Kimimaro pointed out a few breaths after my response.

I sighed. "I don't think that's it at all. I've hardly had an outburst. This is like the first time I've wrecked a room in a while."

Kimimaro remained thoughtful; his piercing green eyes still on my face with a gaze that made me feel just a tad uncomfortable. I could only guess what he was thinking about. Probably trying to figure out what kind of power I had that could possibly bring me that close to Shishou. Shishou's lust for power and hunger for more Jutsus was no secret to the entirety of the village. Those with strong techniques were welcome in his presence while he ignored those with minimal abilities. Or, at least those with powers he wasn't already looking for or had already possessed.

"How talented are you?" he finally said.

"Huh?"

"What I mean is, you seem to have enough stamina to take down a roomful of straw dummies and still have enough Chakra for a fire-type technique. I happen to know that fire takes a lot of Chakra to control—too little and it spreads, too much and it's an inferno. Also, you said before you took on a pack of twelve Shinobi only this morning. You must have a lot of power available to you to be able to pull that off."

I didn't respond right away. I was trying to figure out how to explain to this guy what my Jutsus were like without giving too much away. That was another rule to being a Shinobi: Reveal nothing except in the last, possible moment. Obviously, he could tell I was able to use fire techniques—the dummy provided the evidence for that. But the new carpeting was done by mere poundings with a quarter staff; not the wind techniques I possessed.

"Talented enough." was my answer.

"That's pretty vague, Hoshi." he told me.

I shrugged. He would probably give me the same answer if I asked him the same question.

"_How_ talented are you?" he pushed again.

"You're only going to get the same answer as before." I told him.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine." he said. "I guess I'll just have to find out another way."

"Good luck with that. Kabuto Senpai's databook on me is as incomplete as his databook on Oto no Yoninshu." I told him.

He scoffed. "There are other ways to find out about people, Hoshi." he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yeah, have fun with that."

He gave me a small smile. "I plan to."

Much to my amazement, Kimimaro stretched his arm out to the side, and a bone knife parted the skin in his forearm; sliding gracefully into his hand while the skin sealed up behind it. I knew Shishou had picked up a few weirdos in out ravels, but nobody this weird.

I had heard of the technique before in passing—I think Kabuto Senpai and Shishou had discussed it at some point. It was a Kekkei Genkai called Shikotsumyaku—a form of bone manipulation that was as extinct as his clan. I quickly began calculating the number of attacks available with a Kekkei Genkai like this. The number was infinitesimal.

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "Are you challenging me?" I asked, meaningfully with the kind of tone that suggested I was all for accepting. If this guy had been in Oto no Yoninshu, he would present an interesting challenge.

Kimimaro rested the knife in his other palm; his eyes tracing its shape. "I suppose it would be." he agreed.

I considered it. "Why? What do you have to gain? I'm no longer Shishou's protege, so there isn't anything to gain by beating me. So what is it?"

"You're right, I have nothing to gain by beating you. Which is also my point. I do not want to beat you. I will have won nothing—not that I want to win anything—but I will have something to prove. And something to do." Kimimaro said.

"Okay, two questions. One, why do you need to have something to do? And two, what do you have to prove?" I asked.

"I'm not like other Shinobi." Kimimaro put in. "I'm not much use to Orochimaru-sama so I don't get used any more. And when I don't get used, I just lay around and get old and fat. I've just been bored these last few days looking for something to do. I figure you might be a bit of a challenge to me."

I didn't know how to respond to that so I didn't. Instead, I crossed my arms and waited for him to continue.

"As to what I have to prove, it's more of like a point to myself, than a point to you or anyone." He held up the bone knife. "Do you know what this is or how I created it?"

"Yes." I said, stretching the affirmation out as long as I could in one breath. "It's a Kekkei Genkai called 'Shikotsumyaku'."

"Correct. I'm glad you know the name and its classification. This will save some time." he said, laying the knife down again in his hand. "Kekkei Genkai are called thus because they only appear in people sharing the same DNA. Some are more rare than others. My Kekkei Genkai—in particular—is especially rare. Only one person in each generation is born with it. In our clan, anyone born this way is handled with kiddie gloves. We are stashed away in the very underbelly of the clan headquarters; kept from prying eyes and anyone would would want to harm us—or kidnap us.

"When I was discovered to have it, our clan head took me away and only brought me out when it was time for a fight. My clan did not study the way of the Shinobi. They were more like savages looking to prove their worth through killing. The last time we went to war was a mistake. Our opponents were from Kirigakure—Village Hidden in the Mists. They slaughtered everyone but me. I was nine years old and I had no clan and no family . . . nothing. I was nothing until Orochimaru-sama found me."

"What does that have to do with proving a point?" I demanded.

Kimimaro regarded me. "Are you always this impatient?" he asked in a tone that wasn't severe but might as well have been.

I didn't answer, so Kimimaro continued on from there.

"Since my Kekkei Genkai was now extinct with me being the one who possesses it now, there is little known about it. My clan were all fighters, not scientists, so no tests were run to discover the secrets to Shikotsumyaku. But Kabuto discovered that my anatomy was different than that of normal humans. Apparently, my body had to be different for the Kekkei Genkai to exist inside me."

He stopped there because he saw I was getting a little more impatient. I liked things to get to the point, not ramble on and on and on and—

"Long story short, my Kekkei Genkai was poisoning me. I am—in a sense—dying. This was why I was cast aside to make room for Yuugure no Aojiroi. And since there is no one else like me, there is no cure for the terminal illness I am currently carrying." Kimimaro said, cutting into my thoughts.

"So wait." I said. "You're dying. And yet . . . you wanna fight me?"

"I'm not at deaths door yet, Hoshi." he said, calmly.

"But you soon will be." I pointed out.

"Not as soon as you think. Kabuto has given me a formula which has slowed down the progression of the disease. I may have a few months. Until then, there are some things I want to do. Challenging Deshi no Orochimaru is high on my list."

I got up and paced around; thinking about everything he just told me and wondering if challenging a sickly man would make me a coward.

_He challenged _you_, Baka!_ I realized.

I donned my hood and mask and activated my Dojutsus. "Bring it on then, old man! Mokuton: Nagai Mokujou no Jutsu!"


	3. First Real Mission

_Chapter three. wow, thanks guys. it's been a real pleasure so far to start posting this story again.  
_

**_Disclaimer:_** _I don't own Naruto, obviously. Hoshi is mine and so are any characters you don't know about._

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Chapter Three  
First Real Mission

My skirmish with Kimimaro had been an exhilarating one. Not to mention, it was also quite tiresome. Never before had I been driven to use up all my Chakra in a fight. Normally, I would take down an opponent using minimal Ninjutsu—Ninja techniques—and mostly Taijutsu. But my fight with Kimimaro had cost me dearly. I was suddenly exhausted and I had small bleeding scratches on every exposed part of my body.

Of course, while it was mostly Kimimaro's doing that caused me to run out of Chakra long before I was ready to call the fight, it was also my doing. Kimimaro seemed to know only a few techniques and they all revolved around his Kekkei Genkai. Basically, he danced circles around me with a bone knife in each hand. I was barely able to track his movements with my Shyakugan and I had only a split second to raise my staff in the protective position before he could do some serious damage.

Finally, with both of us worn out from the fight, we collapsed on the floor and laughed at each other.

"You did pretty well for a sickly old man." I said, smartly.

Kimimaro let a smile tug at his lips. "Watch who you're calling old man. I'm still a teenager, just like you."

I still grinned and let myself fall backward onto the floor. I stared up at the ceiling and wondered how long it took for a user of Doton—earth style—to build this cavern underground.

"For the record, you didn't do too bad yourself." Kimimaro said, softly.

I looked at him. "Arigato." I said.

Kimimaro only nodded.

We stayed there a while. Kimimaro sat apart from me a moment, then crawled ear me. I tensed as he lifted my head, slipped my headband off, laid my head down on his knees, and began massaging my temples with his fingertips. I relaxed. His touch was cool on my warm temples. But I was still a little wary. Physical contact like this was unheard of in Otogakure. In fact, touching was never a part of our society here unless if you wanted to hurt somebody.

But Kimimaro's fingers were so gentle on my skin. So soft, I barely felt them.

"Does this feel good?" he asked.

"Mm." I said—I couldn't say anything other than a moan of satisfaction through my throat.

He smoothed back my bangs and the two small braids from my face and traced the contours of my face, first with his fingers, then with the unbraided tip of my hair. The hair tickled, but I didn't mind. I suddenly felt so relaxed with him that it felt like a sin to be this calm.

Kimimaro bent his head over me. "You know, you're so utsukushii."

I was known to take offense at such a word. To me, beauty was a weakness. Kabuto was sly enough to use it and get away with it. But the way Kimimaro said it—so casual—I found I didn't mind it at all.

"Arigato." was all I managed to say.

"Dou itashimashite—you're welcome." he said.

His hands were so gentle on me, I felt my eyes beginning to close and my mind drifted off to sleep. I was exhausted and he was too. But he was still gently massaging my face with his fingertips and my hair.

_You really shouldn't be doing this._ my conscience warned. _This guy has the Jutsus of an Ansatsusha—assassin. He could be luring you to sleep. Then try to kill you while you slept._

_Killing someone in their sleep is cowardice._ I reasoned back. _Otogakure has no place for those kinds of people._

_That doesn't matter to him. He's sick and he's dying. What difference would it be to him to be killed? He's no use to the Otokage anyway._ my conscience argued.

_But his name would be remembered forever as a coward. Nobody truly wants that._ I shot back.

My conscience said nothing more.

/|\

For the next couple of days, I accepted more challenges from Shinobi wannabes, and then went off to practice in the training hall with Kimimaro. As a result, I had received a few more scratches to add to my collection and a few new blisters on my hands. We found ourselves switching roles here and there. But when Kimimaro was the attacker, he was fast and deft with his bone knives. His speed, alone, nearly confused my Shyakugan.

Nearly.

When I was the attacker he somehow managed to avoid me until I learned frontal attacks weren't going to work on him. I resorted to using Ninjutsu. Katon—Fire-style—seemed to work pretty well against him.

On the third day, we finished later than usual. Neither one of us wanted to call the match. But by the time the match was called, we have exhausted our Chakra reserves yet again. Kimimaro was in worse shape than me, so I ended up having to take him back to his chambers. However the going was rough as I half-dragged, half-carried him on my back; his body too long for a proper piggy-back ride so his feet dragged behind us.

Kimimaro gently rested his chin on my shoulder. "Well, that was quite the battle." he said.

I nodded in agreement. "I've never had such a challenge fighting someone as I have with you. You're quite the artist."—we refer to some techniques as a work of art and to say so to Kimimaro was merely a nod to his style.

"Arigato, but you're quite the fighter yourself. I barely won because of your Kekkei Genkai. By the way, what do you call it?"

"Shyakugan." I said.

"Never heard of it." he said.

"Well, you wouldn't. I'm the only one who has it." I said, kicking down his door and depositing him on his bed.

"So, you're like me. I was the only one in my clan to inherit the Kaguya Kekkei Genkai: Shikotsumyaku." Kikimaro said, laying back on his pillow.

I think my answer confused him. "You misunderstood me. The reason why I have the Shyakugan _is_ because of my double heritage. I was born from two different clans—hence the name Futatsu no Shizoku no Musume. The Shyakugan is a combination of the Uchiha Sharingan and the Hyuga Byakugan. Separate, they're strong. Together, they're even stronger."

Kimimaro nodded in understanding. "So that's why you're the only one." It wasn't a question but a mere statement of fascination.

I sat next to his bed and demonstrated the Dojutsus separately then together. While I did this, I wondered how they looked to my new friend. I had looked at myself in the polished surface of a mirror and I thought my Dojutsus were just an awesome result of my parentage. Kimimaro's answer made me all the more proud of my inheritance.

"How interesting!" Kimimaro patted the side of his bed; indicating that I sit near him. When I did, he brushed his fingertips over the nape of my neck and noticed the tiny nicks in my skin left behind by his knives. "You should get those checked out." he said.

I shrugged his concern off. "They're just little nicks. I'll be fine—so long as you didn't poison those blades of yours."

He smiled. "No, I didn't poison them. My Jutsu doesn't work like that to begin with. You see, it works by combining two elements in my bones: calcium and Chakra. My bones grow and harden depending on how much of either element I put in. Once I detach one, another simply grows back in its place."

My eyes began dropping again under Kimimaro's tender stroking. "You know," I managed to say, "it's interesting. For the past five years, no one has ever come close to beating me or made me use up all my Chakra. Challenging you has been so—well—thrilling. I've never worked so hard in my life like I did these last few days."

"You're just lucky you had your Shyakugan activated is all." Kimimaro said, chuckling.

"Perhaps. Then again, perhaps not. I might be able to copy Jutsus and see how much Chakra is used, but I can't copy Kekkei Genkai. Kekkei Genkai are inherited, not learned." I said.

We remained quiet while I stayed near Kimimaro's bed until he fell asleep. Then, after tucking him in, I went to my own chambers where I cleaned all my cuts, changed my clothes—the ones I was wearing had little tears in them—and poured a pitcher of cool water into a basin. Then, I dropped my hands into the basin; wishing I knew some Hyoton—Ice style—techniques.

With my cuts treated and bandaged and my blisters cooled, I crawled into bed and started going to sleep. I could've picked up something from the great hall, but I was too tired to eat. I just wanted a nap.

I lay there for what felt like a few minutes before there was a rap on my door. Okay, so maybe it was more like a rage-filled pounding. I gave a sigh of disgust. A Kunoichi's work is never done.

"Yes, come in." I snapped, sitting up.

The door swung forcefully open and Tayuya stepped in. I scrutinized her, severely. For a member of Oto no Yoninshu, she wasn't much to look at and I noticed, for the first time, that she was actually around my age. She was dressed like everyone else in Oto with the exception of a ribbed skullcap stretched tight over her long, reddish-pink hair and an all-white yin-yang sign painted at the base of her robe. She wore a permanent scowl and her dark eyes were always forbidding.

"Orochimaru-sama requires an audience with you."

Tayuya's voice sounded irritated; whether because she was in the presence of her least favorite Kunoichi in all of Otogakure—me—or because she was being used as a messenger was beyond me. Some people tended to avoid Tayuya when she was irritable. Me, I liked to screw with her a little.

I yawned, cavernously, and stretched as though I had enjoyed a nice restful sleep. "I'll be there." I said, enjoying every minute of Tayuya's annoyance.

"Well hurry up, Buta—pig. You don't keep Orochimaru-sama waiting!"

I knew the limits of Tayuya's temper and I was vaguely aware of her abilities. I quickly surmised that I had screwed with her long enough. I got out of bed and followed Tayuya back to Shishou's audience hall. I saw Shishou rise from his chair and I ran to him; embracing him around the middle like I used to when I was a child.

"Welcome home, Shishou." I said.

"Arigato, Hoshi." Shishou said, lifting my chin until we could see eye to eye. "It seems everything is as I left it. Well—almost everything."

I flinched as Sishou turned my head to the side to see a tiny bandage plastered to the edge of my jawline; his thin fingers tracing it.

"It's nothing, Shishou." I assured him.

"How did this happen?" he asked, sounding surprised to find such injuries—even ones so small—on me. "Who defeated you?"

"I wasn't defeated. The fights ended in a stalemate." I said, pulling away from him. I stood apart from him and stared deep into his golden reptillian eyes. "Besides, it was friendly combat."

"_Friendly_ combat?" Jirobo asked. I jumped at the sound of his booming voice. I hadn't noticed he was standing so close to me. For as big as he was, he had very light footsteps. "Looks like Kimimaro's work to me."

"_You_ challenged Kimimaro?" Shishou asked. He chuckled. "Perhaps I should find better opponents for you to compete against if you have resorted to challenging sickly men."

"_He_ challenged _me_." I corrected. Then, I grinned. "Perhaps you would like to fight me, Shishou?" My tone was innocent and teasing, but I was actually being serious.

Kidomaru laughed and I frowned at the six-armed, black-haired boy. I had known Kidomaru before he joined Oto no Yoninshu. He was playful, but had the demeanor of a predatory spider. While I may have known him before Oto no Yoninshu, I still didn't know any of his techniques.

"Orochimaru-sama fight _you_? You must be joking! Hoshi, he's defeated Jounin, ANBU Black Ops, and the Third Hokage! He won't be defeated by a simple Genin! In fact, he'll use you

as a mop!"

"That's true, Kidomaru. But Hoshi is no Genin—she has reached Chunin level years ago which is why I eliminated her apprenticeship with me. And, she is also Futatsu no Shizoku no Musume, as you well know."

His eyes never left my face. He could tell I wasn't really upset by Kidomaru's comment. In fact, Shishou's recognition of my status in the Ninja world overshadowed Kidomaru's lack of faith in me.

"However, you can't blame her for having aspirations." Shishou continued.

"I guess not." Kidmaru said, drawing back.

Shishou ignored him. "Hoshi, I've come to realize that I have been unfair to you. So, I am going to send you on a mission. This will be a team effort spearheaded by you."

I smiled with excitement. "A mission, Shishou? A real mission?"

"As opposed to a fake one, yes." Shishou said, his oversized mouth split into ahuge grin "A real mission that will test your skills. If you complete it successfully, I may consider you as a candidate for a future Go no Oto." He motioned for Sakon to continue from there.

Sakon explained that a small clan had settled beyond the borders of Moyagakure—Village Hidden in the Haze. They are not affiliated with any village, but their clan compound has expanded into Sound Village territory. We were to go and force the clan to move. If they will not, then more . . . drastic measures were to be taken. Drastic meaning we had to kill everyone, starting with family groups—killing infants and children first, old ones last.

"Kill infants?" I said. Suddenly, this mission didn't sound as great anyumore. "That isn't in my training!"

"They must know we are serious, Hoshi." Sakon reasoned. "And your training included following your leader's orders. In this case, your leader is Orochimaru-sama."

He had me there. But killing younglings didn't sit well with me, no matter the situation.

"Perhaps I misjudged you, Hoshi. If you're not ready, I will send someone else. Either way, it will be done."

I knew he wouldn't hesitate jumping over me to get a job done, and I saw this as a chance to get back in favor with him. "No, Shishou. I can do it. I'm ready."

"Good. Now this is the team you will be leading." Shishou gestured to three Shinobi behind me. I hadn't even noticed they were there. "These are Rokkumaru, Master of Doton; Kawa Sutoreto, Master of Suiton—water; and Tsuyoi Kuki, master of Futon."

I looked at them and realized that Tsuyoi Kuki was actually female with a musculine-like physique. She was still slight with the smallest hint of an athletic build. She wore a scarf around her neck and carried a pair of small hand-fans in her belt and a dagger in a sheath above her left knee. Her messy white-blond hair stuck out at every angle and neatly shaded her purple eyes.

Rokkumaru was a big, strong man. His head was neatly shaved except for a tall, black mohawk. His skin was dirt-brown and was tattooed with black ink in a pebble-like pattern. His arms were bare beneath the village-issued robe which neatly emphasized his muscles.

Kawa was smaller and skinnier than Rokkumaru but had more muscular definition than Tsuyoi. However, in the way he moved, his body appeared to be made of water. He had silver-white hair that rippled down to his waist and he wore a pair of finned gauntlets. His skin was pale-green and was jagged in the appearance of fish scales. His ears were shaped like fins and his eyes were so black there was no light and no sign of a sclera. His lips parted over sharp teeth and I was reminded of the residence of Kirigakure—Village Hidden in the Mists.

I quietly assessed them; taking what information I knew of them and deciding which of my two styles would work alongside them. Then, Shishou interrupted my thoughts.

"Well, Hoshi?" he pressed.

I looked at him. "Consider it done, Shishou. When do we leave?"

"In the morning. Gather whatever tools and food you need for the journey. Then, get some rest. You're going to need it."


	4. Annihilation

_Chapter four. you guys have been great. it's gotten considerably easier for me to want to repost this story. but you do know what reviews are still welcome, right?  
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**_Thanks to everyone who followed/favorited this story:  
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**_Disclaimer:_** _I don't own Naruto, obviously. Hoshi is mine and so are any characters you don't know about._

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Chapter Four  
Annihilation

That night, I dragged out an old bag, packed some clothes and paid a visit to the kitchen to gather travel-friendly food. Then, back in my room, I located my scroll, ink well, and brush and began drawing.

Scrolls were an important tool, but few Ninjas actually used them. I seldom used them, myself, except to store my chosen weapons. This scroll was three inches long and five-inches in diameter. And it held a vast amount of equipment—I didn't actually know the dimensions.

Stripping out of the gray robe and black turtleneck, I began drawing the formula for item-space sealing right onto my arms, abdomen, and chest. Once I was finished writing the formula, I laid back to let the ink dry, and selected six weapons; releasing the holding Jutsu on the scroll and arranging each weapon right on to me, lined up with the circles of formulas.

"Fuinjutsu: Soru Hada no Jutsu—Sealing style: Warped Skin Technique."

Instantly, my skin turned to putty and sucked the weapons into the formulated circles. The forumlas stretched the dimensions of my skin, creating a portal to Budda-knows-where with me as the anchor.

From my collection of clothes, I selected a scoop-neck, waist-length, gray robe and full-length arm-warmers to hide the tattoos. The length of the robe was to allow access to my chest and abdominal tattoos.

After reading the regional map and an article on the offending clan, I fell asleep.

/|\

The next morning, I got up, dressed, grabbed a short breakfast, and headed up to the entrance of the village where my team was waiting for me. And it looked like they had been waiting a while.

"Kyaputen—Captain." Tsuyoi said, with an air and look of impatience.

Kawa flicked a droplet of water at me; his scale-covered face expressionless, black eyes without emotion.

"Are we ready to leave?" I asked, authoritatively. I had to present myself as a leader, otherwise, they would likely rebel. Tsuyoi's use of an authoritative title meant nothing if I couldn't prove I was worthy of it.

"We hath been ready." Rokumaru said, rising out of the rocks where he had been lounging. His tattooed flesh camouflaged him quite nicely and I wondered who the artist was.

I stared at the big Doton user and noticed he had forgone using the mandatory snake-skin-printed shoulder-shawl, and arm warmers. I decided to put my authority to good practice.

"Rokkumaru, you are in violation of Oto-Shinobi dress-code. Return to your quarters and dress yourself properly." I ordered.

Rokkumaru's dark eyes flashed and he took a few lumbering steps toward me. I internally quailed at the big man's sheer size and mass, but somehow managed not to show him fear.

"I do not hath to comply with the dress-codes of others. Not when they hinder my awesome power." he said.

Kawa got up and patted Rokkumaru's arm. "We tried to get him fitted for regulation dress, but he's just too big."

Damn right he was too big! The guy had to be at last eight-feet tall and three feet wide with all that muscle structure! I looked like an oversized doll next to him.

"As long as you claim your tattoos are part of your technique, I will permit it." I said, still keeping a brave face. A leader had to know when to accept change, right?

Rokkumaru grinned. His teeth pearly-white against his dirt-colored skin. "Aren'st thou afraid of

me, Kyaputen?"

"No." I said said, flatly.

He tsked. "Too bad." he said, and backed off.

"Now, if we're done fooling around, let's get going." I said, heading off in the direction I knew to be the Atamahage's present location.

_It'll be okay, Hoshi. _I thought to myself. _We're on a diplomatic endeavor to remove an unwanted presence from our land. We just need to talk to them, that's all._

"Hey, Kyaputen. Race yah." Kawa said, next to me.

I looked at him and grinned. "You're on! No rules, no limits!" I declared.

"Agreed!" Kawa said. with that, we ran.

One of my first Ninja lessons with Shishou involved learning how to run. And not just run, but run fast. Shishou stopped at a small shop and purchased as set of leg weights which weighed anywhere from two to fifty pounds. Then, he had me put on the leg weights and run around the village borders until I could do it in a matter of minutes. He kept adding weights to each leg with each succession until we ran out and I was able to run quickly without them. Even carrying Shishou on my back.

I still ran everyday with fifty-pound leg-weights and few can match my speed that way. But judging by Kawa's own speed, I guessed he, too, had similar training. But his movements were fluid. Mine weren't. Not to mention the fact that Kawa cheated by throwing puddles of water at me to slow me up. Okay, so I had said no rules and no limits, therefore, he wasn't cheating. But still, I had to activate my Sharingan to be able to guess when and where his puddles were going to strike.

"Noromo! Noromo!" Kawa yelled back at me; glancing over his shoulder to stick out a black and purple spotted tongue. "You're never going to get me!"

I felt my anger grow hot in my belly. No doubt he had heard of me using that insult—as well as others—on our villagemates. I kept running and formed the Tiger Handseal.

"Katon: Te no Hinotama no Jutsu!—Firestyle: Fireball Hands Technique."

Instantly, globes of fire appeared on my hands and I threw them at Kawa; who yelped and quickly dodge them. I threw a few more, new globes forming to replace the ones I threw. One globe hit Kawa between the shoulder blades and he fell down. I cackled as I ran past him.

/|\

That night, we settled down to camp. Somehow Rokkumaru and Tsuyoi had gotten ahead of us and had already started a fire and pitched their tents. I demanded to know how they got there so fast, but Rokkumaru grinned saying "'Tis a secret, Kyaputen." His response led me to believe he had something to do with it.

We finished setting up camp, fixed supper, and parted company just to check on our tools and equipment. I sat further apart form the others and pulled my staff out of my belt. I stared at it, wondering if there were other techniques I could do with it.

I formed the Snake Handseal around it. "Mokuton: Nagai Yuri no Jutsu!—Woodstyle: Long-Spear Technqiue!" Instantly, the rod extended, not as a staff, but as a staff with a broad, wooden tip. I was pleased. Now, not only could I protect myself, but I could also stab people. But I wanted to make sure it wasn't ruined.

"Sutaffu." I said and the tip sucked back into a blunt end.

I was delighted. My staff hadn't lost its original purpose.

Mokuton is, in all actuality, an extinct nature technique. The last person to possess it, according to Shishou, was the First Hokage, Hashirama Senju. I, myself, can't use Mokuton. I could only do a few tricks with it. Hashirama was said to be able to use Mokuton to stimulate the environment and make trees grow. I couldn't do that. I couldn't do anything more than what the staff allowed.

I got up and held the staff between my hands. "Yuri." The staff grew a point.

I danced around my pit of fire; flipping, twisting, kicking, punching, and swinging my stick. I cast globes of fire and directed them with my staff. I stirred the winds and sent them bursting in all directions. I had continued with my dance of power, little knowing that I was being watched beyond the light of my fire.

"You're quite good." Tuyoi said.

I stopped my dancing and watched Tsuyoi approach. I tensed as the Futon-user took her fans out of her belt and waved them. Tsuyoi said nothing, but a rough wind knocked me on my ass. I struggled to rise and Tsuyoi knocked me down again. I knew she was getting serious.

"Stop! I order you to stop!" I shouted, half-expecting Tsuyoi to obey me. I was, after all, the captain of this team. But Tsuyoi's sneer said otherwise.

"Let's see how well you do against a true master of Futon." Tsuyoi said. "I learned wind control from a young man of the Leaf. No one has my kind of Chakra control. Except maybe you. But we shall see."

I hadn't expected to duel someone from my village while on this mission. I had expected us to act professionally. And for Tsuyoi to challenge me openly on the night before the terrible deed of Genocide was to be carried out, I wasn't sure what to think or how to feel.

Tsuyoi let me stand up.

"Look, Tsuyoi Kuki. I am tired. There is no point in me accepting your challenge. Good night." I said. I turned and walked away; stoppoing only when I heard Tsuyoi shriek.

"No point? No point! I have heard much about you, Hoshi. You are Orochimaru-sama's favorite Kunoichi. To challenge you would be an honor. A chance to prove myself over someone Orochimaru-sama thinks so highly of."

I sighed. I was sure everyone in Otogakure felt that way about me.

"Tsuyoi, you are mistaken." I said. "I have not done anything for Shishou since he created Otogakure. In fact, this is the first mission he's ever put me on. If you think you'll gain any honor by fighting and defeating me, then you will not have much."

"Wrong! It is a great deal to be selected by Orochimaru-sama. To be favored by him. It means he has a special place for you." Tsuyoi said and I was stunned.

I thought about it. Shishou did seem to favor me almost as much—more or less—as Oto no Yoninshu and Kabuto. No one ever tried to pick a fight with them. Then again, Kabuto was far too busy as Spy in the Leaf and Oto no Yoninshu was offlimits.

I had heard tales of underlings challenging superior officers for a chance to lead teams. I wondered if Tsuyoi had similar ambitions.

I took the hood and mask out of my belt and put them on. "Keep in mind that I have beaten numerous fighters of high skill. I will not go easy on you." I said, activating my Shyakugan.

Tsuyoi snorted, not the least bit impressed with my declaration. "Fine with me." She said, striking a pose; one fan over her head, the other other her heart.

Our fight was of epic proportions. In fact, I felt an even bigger adreneline rush since the fight with Kimimaro. Only, I had one advantage over Tsuyoi which didn't seem to work on Kimimaro: The Hyuga Clan's Gentle Fist. This Jutsu didn't work on Kimimaro because of his thick bones. The bones were the same reason why I couldn't see his Chakra.

Tsuyoi didn't have a dense bone structure so I could see her Chakra. I was able to see the sudden rushes of energy to Tsuyoi's palms whenever she was preparing to use her Jutsus. The only problem was getting close enough to tap out her Chakra points.

The fight raged on for a while. Twice, I replaced myself with a shadow clone and twice I was able to hit Tsuyoi with my Katon: Endan no Jutsu. Finally, injured and exhausted, Tsuyoi fell victim to my Hakke Rokujuryun Sho. With her Chakra points blocked, Tsuyoi was unable to fight any more that night.

/|\

"See? Lookee there, Kyaputen. I told thee I'd find the Atamahage clan for thee." Rokkumaru pointed down at the fortified Atamahage Temple. One meaty hand pounded my back with enough force to make me stumble. I frowned up at the big Shinobi. I could've found the temple myself without Rokkumaru. So I was a little irritated with him and didn't bother congratulating him on his find.

"Let's just get this over with." Kawa said, cracking his neck. "I wanna finish this job before it gets too dark."

"I agree." Tsuyoi said.

All three glanced back at me and I nodded my consent. It was dark and I wanted to get the job done soon, too. I put my hood on my head and pulled the mask down past my chin and followed my team down to the temple.

There were a pair of guards holding spears and shields and wearing plate armor which was poorly hidden by green robes and brown-berry trousers and black arm-warmers. I glanced at Rokkumaru for his assessment. He told me his observations on their weaponry, but he went on to describe their fighting style.

"Low grade Jutsu control. These guys aren't Shinobi. They don't believe in the Shinobi lifestyle." He grinned, exposing jagged teeth. "Shouldn't be too hard handling them, eh Kyaputen?"

Kawa laughed; a sound that could be compared to a seal bark. I knew what was meant by Rokkumaru's comment and I slapped both male Jounin on the shoulders—regretting it immensely when my hand came in contact with a rigid fin down Kawa's back

"If we're done making fun of my Jutsu skills, can we get on with this mission?" I snapped.

Rokkumaru and Kawa grinned. Tsuyoi shook her head and muttered something about "childishness."

"Tsuyoi." I said, gaining her attention. "Remove those guards, but don't kill them."

Tsuyoi raised her eyebrows at me, skeptically, but obeyed. we watched Tsuyoi approach the guards seemingly without care. Her arms at her sides with fingers crooked toward the fans in her belt.

"Halt! Who goes there?" the guards shouted, pointing their spears at Tsuyoi's chest. The movement was spookily synchronized.

Rokkumaru chuckled and nudge me in the ribs with his elbow. "Watch this." he said.

I did watch. Tsuyoi's display of Futon was impressive. But, having fought with her last night, I wasn't too impressed.

Tsuyoi stopped in a wide-legged stance; her hands on the fan's hinges. She swung her hands inward—bumping the guards' heads together—then outward—knocking the guards aside. When the winds died down, Tsuyoi put her fans away and motioned for us to follow her.

A warning bell rang; alerting the clansmen to the four, strange intruders. There was a rush of able-bodied fighters and we found ourselves surrounded by long spears and archers with bows drawn tight and arrows aimed right at us. Beside me; I felt Rokkumaru moving from foot to foot; obviously itching for a fight to start. I glared at him, willing him to be still.

I nudged Kawa, indicating he speak for us. Kawa grinned at me and said, "My pleasure." Then, he addressed the clansmen. "I wish to speak with the leader of this clan."

A man wearing a white robe with a white sash and wooden sandals, stepped forward. "I am Subarashii, head of the Atamahage clan. What is it you want with us, Shinobi?"

Kawa's black eyes focused n on Subarashii. "I am Kawa Sutoreto and I represent a very powerful Kage who has a message for you."

Subarashii's steel-gray eyes narrowed. "I am listening. Say your piece and be gone."

Kawa shook his head. "Unfortunately, that's going to be difficult. Otokage-sama says the land you are sitting on is also Sound Village Territory. Your borders have expanded too far beyond the purchased land piece. He sympathizes with you that you need enough lands to accommodate all in your clan. However, he requested that you remove one wall and move your borders in another direction."

Subarashii fixed Kawa with a glare. "The land we're on has no ownership but our own. We signed an agreement with Moyagakure complete with a map of the region. There was no indication that this land was owned by another village."

"That is because he rented this land from another village. The other village gave us this land and your western section is invading our borders. Therefore, I will say this again, but only once: Move your borders in another direction or the consequences will be severe."

Subarashii scoffed. "It will take more than four Shinobi to move us."

"You will regret that, Subarashii. We are the best among our own Hidden Village. Do not underestimate us."

Subarashii slowly approached Kawa and had to crane his neck back to see the Suton-user eye-to-eye. "I do not doubt that you are powerful. However, tell your Otokage this: 'This land belongs to the Atamahage clan. If he does not approve of my decision, he can take it up with the Moyakage and we will move'."

Kawa's fin rose up on his back, Rokkumaru cracked his neck and flexed his arms, Tsuyoi played with her fans, and I yanked my mask over my face and activated my Shyakugan.

"You will regret this decision." Kawa said. He stepped back. "Rokkumaru?"

Rokkumaru's hands formed the Snake Handseal. "Doton: Yosumi Keimushi no Jutsu—Earthstyle: Four-Corners Prison Technique." Immediately, a rocky prison surrounded Subarashii; separating him from the rest of his clan.

"How dare you?" Subarashii spat. "First you attack my guards, then you accuse us of invading unowned territories! Now you threaten and imprison me for refusing your leader's demands!"

"We told you the consequences would be dire,"—I didn't remember him saying that and I decided not to interrupt him—"but you still defied us. Would it have been such a big deal just to move your borders? Stubbornness gets you nowhere." Kawa said. He inhaled deeply. "We do not delight in what we are about to do,"—a lie, I knew, because every one of my teammates seemed to love killing—"but it seems this is our only option."

With that, his fin extended to its full-length and he hissed through his pointed teeth; and the slaughter began.

I yanked down the collar of my robe, touched the Seal on my chest with a Half-Ram Handseal and the Kusarigama slid out of my skin and into my hand. I wailed about with the Kusarigama in one hand and the staff in the other. But I soon found myself sobbing when I took the lives of nine people: two babies, two children, a teenager, two mothers, a father, and a soldier. I felt my eyes burn and I found it difficult to control the Shyakugan. I couldn't stand it anymore. I couldn't completely carry out Shishou's orders. I sat behind a building and sent a clone out to finish the job.

The battle ended quickly. The entire temple grounds were covered with blood; the ground so wet there was no more room for the blood to soak in. Only Subarashii was left. His face was red and puffy and damp. I sympathized with him once I replaced myself with my clone.

"You—you monsters!"

Rokkumaru laughed. It was dark and humorless. "Monsters are we? No, Subarashii. We're not the monsters. Thee are the one at fault here. We gave thee the option to leave, and thee refused. If thoust had, thee might still be a leader of something. Thee has only theeself to blame.

With that, Tsuyoi sucked the air out of Subarashii's lungs; causing him to die from asphyxiation.

"Clean this up." I ordered. "Then meet me at the camp." I walked away.

When my clone returned to me, every kill flooded my mind; nearly flooring me.


	5. Mangekyo Sharingan

_Chapter five. Here, things get interesting. And, this is also kind of where I got some prickly reviews last time. I'll explain in the next chapter what I mean. The only thing, I want to say is MY character, My story. I also have warn you that I will also be getting into some canon later into the story. Some of my readers didn't care of the canon being added in but I don't think I'm doing the series justice by not putting it in. Some of it will be the same but with Hoshi's involvement, it'll be slightly different. So please, try to be a little open-minded when we get to it, okay.  
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**_Thanks to everyone who followed/favorited this story:  
_**_**(favorited)** Slitheringirl22, Your Hoshi, PsychopathicXangel  
**(followed)** Slitheringirl22, lily0yuri, Your Hoshi  
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**_Also, thanks to those who reviewed this story  
_**_PsychopathicXangel (1)  
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**_Disclaimer:_** _I don't own Naruto, obviously. Hoshi is mine and so are any characters you don't know about._

* * *

Chapter Five  
Mangekyo Sharingan

Word of our return traveled quickly throughout Otogakure. Everyone gathered around the four of us "heroes" and congratulated us. Everyone but me smiled and nodded my thanks to the Oto-Shinobi for their acknowledgments. Finally tired of the crowds, I excused myself and went off on my own. I didn't go far, just to the practice hall. And, that's where Kimimaro found me; once again, taking my frustrations out on the straw dummies.

At first glance, it looked like I had attacked the dummies with Kunai knives or Shuriken. But a closer look would reveal the presence of no weapons—even my staff was in its dormant form tucked in my belt alongside the mask and hood. An even closer look would show burned straw.

"Hoshi. Are you alright?" Kimimaro asked. He saw me sink to my knees as I quietly wept. His question was valid.

"Yeah." I said. I scrubbed at my eyes with the heel of my palm and rose. "This new technique I'm practicing takes a lot out of me, is all." So what? I lied! Sue me!

Kimimaro caught a glimpse of my eyes. He grabbed me and turned me around to get a better look, but by the time I was facing him, my eyes had returned to their normal color.

He began stroking my cheek; smoothing a braid against my jawline. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked, concern tingeing his stoic tone.

Tears began welling up in my eyes. "No. No I'm not, Kimimaro. I just . . . I feel so dirty. Like I swam in a sewer."

Kimimaro braced himself against the wall. "I heard your mission was a success."

"I wouldn't say that." I said.

"Well, you completed the mission. You came back unharmed. I would call that a success." Kimimaro said.

I scoffed. "You don't get it, do you? I wasn't trained for something like that. Yes, I was raised as a tool—a piece of weaponry against Shishou's enemies—but I wasn't trained just to kill people."

"All Shinobi and Kunoichi are taught to kill people." Kimimaro said.

"Yeah, other Shinobi! But not people who knew nothing—got that?—_nothing_ about our way of life! And I killed them!" I said. My voice raising an octave. I was about ready to cry.

"That was part of the mission, Hoshi. You'll get used to it." Kimimaro said, calmly.

"No. Don't tell me I'll get used to it! Those were innocent people. Sure they were sitting on our land. But what were we doing with it? We have seven other properties, so we're only here for a few weeks at a time. It would have been better to let them have it."

"Letting someone claim a piece of property without permission is viewed as a sign of weakness." Kimimaro pointed out. I heard what he said, but I couldn't really be reasoned with at this point.

"So what? We could've sold it to them! There are ways this situation could've been avoided! Yet, somehow, we didn't avoid it! We saw one way to get them off our property and we jumped right in! They didn't deserve to die! They were a peace-loving peoples, and I killed them!" I said.

Kimimaro didn't say anything. He stood there, staring directly at me with a gaze that was full of understanding. He nodded, encouraging me to go on.

"I killed them. Every single one of the miserable bastards. They're all dead because I was sent there to carry it out. I KILLED THEM AND THEY DIDN'T DESERVE TO DIE!"

With a scream that was part-anger and part-frustration, I whirled on my toes and the center dummy exploded; bits of singed hay flew in every direction. I had given no sign that I was going to do it. There were no tools, no Handseals. Just a yell. Just anger. And my new Jutsu went into action.

"Hoshi, how did you do that?" Kimimaro asked.

I turned, showing him a strange, new Sharingan had taken the place of my old one. I had already looked at myself in the mirror earlier and was stunned by its strange appearance. It looked like a normal Sharingan—complete with red background and black design—but the three tomoe were suddenly pointed inward at the tiny, black speck where my pupils should be.

Kimimaro recoiled. I didn't blame him. I had jumped back and shrieked myself when I saw it.

"What is that?" he asked.

I shut my eyes. "This is the Uchiha curse. Not all Uchiha members can use the Sharingan and even fewer can use another form of the Sharingan effectively." My eyes opened, once more, revealing the bizarre Dojutsu. "This is a Mangekyo Sharingan."

"Mangekyo?" Kimimaro asked, trying out the new word.

"It's a powerful Dojutsu. From what I understand, it's a technique so powerful that using it causes damage to the retinas. Eventually, the user loses their sight completely." I said. I sounded so mellow now. Nothing like blowing up a dummy to get rid of frustrations. "Each one has a different purpose and name. Mine is called 'Atsuishishen—Hot Gaze'."

"Wait. You mean, you'll go blind?" I nodded. "If it's so destructive to the retinas, why do you have it? How'd you get it?"

"My Sharingan evolved into a Mangekyo because I killed someone and wept for their deaths. A normal Sharingan matures slowly, gaining leaves as it progresses. A three-leafed Sharingan is the most mature, and once that happens, the chance a Mangekyo to develop becomes high." I gave a deep sigh. "As to going blind, it's best not to use the Mangekyo or use it at a distance. I'm not sure how to cure it once the blindness sets in."

"How many others have a Mangekyo?" Kimimaro wanted to know.

I shrugged.

"In that case, don't use the Mangekyo. If you're so afraid of falling out of Lord Orochimaru's favor, using the Mangekyo Sharingan and going blind is a direct route."

I smirked. "Don't worry. Going blind is the last thing on my list."

Kimimaro chucked her under the chin. "Good."

/|\

"You want to do _what_?" I asked Kabuto Yakushi.

I had returned to my chambers soon after finishing my daily training in the practice room. And—much to my pleasure—Kimimaro had assisted me in developing my Taijutsu skills; an area I had more trouble in than Ninjutsu and Genjutsu. But while Kimimaro had assisted me, I could tell his illness was getting worse.

Of course, while we practiced, Kimimaro had vouched to stay seated on the practice room floor and watch me, giving me tips and tricks for improving my posture whenever he could. This new technique was different than how Shishou had originally tried to teach me, and was especially different for me and Kimimaro since we weren't pitting our techniques against each other.

I had practiced for hours, and tired and worn out and out of breath, I returned Kimimaro to his room before heading off to my own chambers. There, I washed up, changed out of my sweaty clothes, and was about ready to take a nap when there was a loud rap on my door.

Groaning with exhaustion, I got up and went to find out who it was. I was very much surprised to find out that it was Kabuto Yakushi.

"Kabuto!" I said. "Uh . . . would you like to come in?"

"Why, of course, Hoshi." Kabuto said with a smile. He reached out and gently stroked my cheek; flattening a braid against it.

I quickly moved aside once Kabuto's fingertips brushed my jawline and opened the door wide enough for him to enter. And once he had stepped inside, I shut the door behind me and turned to face him.

"What can I do for you, Kabuto?" I asked, quietly.

Kabuto finally turned to me and said, "I thought I would give you an update."

"Okay." I said. "What?"

"The Chunin Exams are taking place in Konohagakure this week." he said.

My eyes lit up. "Konohagakure?" I lowered my gaze, not wanting to seem too overly excited about this idea I suddenly had. "Does—does my Shishou wish for me to attend the Chunin Exams?" I asked.

"No." Kabuto said, firmly.

"No?" My head jerked up and an eyebrow arched into my Oto headband. _Shishou does not want me to attend the Chunin Exams? What can this mean?_ I thought with a flicker of despair dancing in my mind.

"No." Kabuto reiterated even more firmly.

"But why?" I asked with uncertainty.

"Because, my dear—" Kabuto began. "—if you were to take the Exams, you will almost certainly pass. In fact, by our Lord's standards, you _are_ a Chunin. These Exams are supposed to be challenging and you have worked through challenges before with outstanding accuracy. If you were to take the Exams, you will pass faster than anyone else. That wouldn't be fair now, would it?" Kabuto watched my head sink lower and lower; upset about being left behind again.

I swallowed and choke back the sobs of abandonment I now felt. Once I had composed myself and reset my face to the stoic features expected of me, I looked up.

"If Shishou does not wish for me to attend the Exams, than what does he want?" I asked.

Kabuto turned and beckoned me to follow him. He led me down the long corridors and into a chamber. It took me a moment to realize the room was the medical center. Computer monitors glowed, streaming data and formulas I was unfamiliar with. Exam tables were laid out and beds made for recovery lined one wall; each bed separated by a curtain.

Kabuto muttered for me to wait at the tables while he opened a freezer and removed a small, white box. He carefully laid the box on the table, slapped my inquisitive hand away—creeping forth to take the box—and placed his hand over the lid to firmly keep it in place. He grinned at me while I gazed at the box with uncertainty.

"I bet you're wondering what's in this box." Kabuto said.

I nodded.

"It's a gift for you, my dear. A gift Orochimaru-sama would like to see you accept. You see, he recently acquired this gift and he had no idea who to give it to. But, since you had done so well on your last mission"—I mentally flinched at the reminder of the Atamahage clan's extermination—"he decided to reward you with this gift." With that, he opened the box and slid it across the table for me to view its contents.

I was confused. The box contained what appeared to be two marbles with purple ripple-like bands, nestled in a bed of shaved ice crystals. I didn't quite know what to make of the marbles as Shishou didn't seem to have any interest in marbles nor did he have any use of them either. The more I thought about it, the more I realized they _weren't_ marbles at all.

I turned away with a hand over my mouth. I lurched and my stomach heaved but nothing came up.

"Eyes?" I said, swallowing the bitter bile in my throat. "What the hell am I going to do with a pair of eyes?"

Kabuto's grin widened. "Why, wear them, of course!" he said, as though that was the most obvious answer.

"Wear them? But, what's wrong with my eyes? What kind of eyes are these?" I asked.

"Rinnegan." Kabuto answered.

His tone suggested I _should_ know what a Rinnegan was and should, therefore, understand the necessity behind them. Sadly, I didn't. Kabuto sighed and continued his explanation.

"It's a very rare Dojutsu. So rare there are only a few actually known to wield it. It gives the wielder the ability to master all five forms of Nature and learn techniques faster than even your Sharingan can allow you to."

"Okay, it's like my Sharingan? So what?" I said, trying to keep from looking at the eyes and puking

"Oh no, Hoshi. These are much more advanced than your Sharingan. If you use your Sharingan to learn a technique, it would take you days to completely master it. With the Rinnegan, that time is cut down to mere hours." Kabuto said. "Besides, I know you have awakened your Mangekyo Sharingan. Very dangerous Dojutsu as I'm sure you already know."

I pulled away and shuffled my foot against the linoleum. "I already promised someone I wouldn't use it anymore." I said.

"My dear, why _wouldn't_ you want to use it? It's a Dojutsu you were born to use! And use it you must."

"But every time I use it I run the risk of going blind!" I protested.

"Not if you accept the Rinnegan!"

I hesitated.

Kabuto sighed in frustration. "I'm not going to replace your Dojutsu, merely bind it with this one."

"What good would that do?" I asked.

"We're hoping it will stall the effects of the Mangekyo—if not stop the affects all together." He shook the box at me and I recoiled from the action; almost afraid the eyes would leap out of the box and hit the table. Or worse, touch me—_Yuck!_

We stood there, looking at each other. Me uncertain of whether to accept the Rinnegan or not and Kabuto frustrated with my uncertainty.

"Do I have a choice?" I asked.

"Not really." Kabuto answered. "But it would be easier on the both of us if you would accept. Either way, I'm going to bind your eyes with these—with or without your permission."

"On whose orders?" I demanded. As soon as I said it, I already knew the answer. Shishou had Kabuto by the short hairs. But Kabuto didn't seem to mind. He followed after Shishou with his tongue hanging out.

"Orochimaru-sama." Kabuto said.

I sighed. Knowing I didn't have a choice in the matter changed my mind for me.

"If Shishou wishes me to accept the Rinnegan, than I shall."

Kabuto grinned. "Very good. I will not bind them to you right away, but I shall soon. I am also part of the Chunin Selection Exams and I must get back to Konoha. Don't worry, though. I will find a way to get out of the Exams as soon as I get back." Kabuto said as he put the eyes away, chucked me under the chin, and left.

I stood there, frozen by fear and disgust. _What did I just agree to?_


	6. Thrice the Power

_Chapter six. Okay guys. I'm not going to apologize for how long it took for me to upload this because I'm not really sorry. Part of it being I was busy with work and working on another story with someone else that I haven't really thought about uploading this chapter too awful much. That, and I got a bad review. An anonymus person decided to write "fake and gay" in last chapter's review board. Besides being upsetting, that was all they wrote. I thought reviews were supposed to be helpful and encouraging, that was neither. So, I'm only going to say this once, too. You don't like it, don't read it. Just like everything else in this world.  
_

_This chapter was a little short, though. When I first wrote it, it was longer but I had to cut out a few things. Then, things will get rolling. I need to edit a few things in a few chapters then I'll be posting. I've been curious though, when I use Japanese terms and their translations, would you prefer that I had the translations lined up with the person that says it, or should it stick it in the bottom of the document as a footnote? Also, while I'm thinking about it, I'm wondering how well you guys are able to stand the "f word". Just let me know what you think._

**_Thanks to everyone who followed/favorited this story:  
_**_**(favorited)** Slitheringirl22, Your Hoshi, PsychopathicXangel  
**(followed)** Slitheringirl22, lily0yuri, Your Hoshi  
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**_Also, thanks to those who reviewed this story  
_**_PsychopathicXangel (2)  
_

**_Disclaimer:_** _I don't own Naruto, obviously. Hoshi is mine and so are any characters you don't know about._

* * *

Chapter Six  
Thrice the Power

I stared down at the remains of yet another destroyed dummy; not completely sure if I was ready for the upcoming event.

_He wanted to do what?_

I began massaging my forehead and tried to keep from screaming. I couldn't believe I had just agreed to something like that.

_How am I that stupid?_

I had been dreading this day for nearly a week. Everyday I woke up and expected to see Kabuto—or at least hear him call me into the medical center—only to go to sleep at night and dread it again in the morning.

_This can't be good for my stress and blood pressure._

The thought about the operation wasn't what truly disturbed me. It was the request that Kabuto said came straight from Shishou that concerned me. The mental images involving small ice cream scoops sent chills down my spine. And I had shivers a lot since I heard the plan. And between shivers, I couldn't help but feel betrayed.

I had been with Shishou since long before Otogakure's inception; acting first as his daughter until age three, then as his apprentice for a good five years. After that, Otogakure had been founded and my apprenticeship shut down.

While I had walked side by side with Shishou, we went from village-to-village, country-to-country, and land-to-land. There was not a single place I hadn't visited, except for Konohagakure—Shishou told me it was better not visiting the Village Hidden in the Leaves because everyone there would be afraid of my power. At every stop, Shishou would seek out certain people, show off his talents and have me show off mine, then promise any interested person he would teach them like he had me. Many had turned away from Shishou's promises, but others came to follow him. When the number of followers grew and grew, Shishou needed somewhere to store them. So, he established Otogakure and named himself Otokage.

For the past six years, I had heard rumors circulating from some of the other Shinobi. Rumors that stunned and bewildered me. The Shinobi whispered things—never to me as I was placed very close to Shishou—about other Shinobi disappearing. Others agreed on the disappearances but would say _those _Shinobi were test subjects. While I had been quick to dismiss the rumors, I couldn't deny I had heard screams of pain and pleas for mercy down below my bed chambers. At first, I had written them off as figments of an overworked mind, but later confronted Shishou with questions about what I heard.

Shishou smiled and patted my hair. "Hoshi, what I am attempting to do is improve unfinished Jutsus. For a weak Shinobi is no use for any Kage."

I understood that, but was still a little unsettled. "Are—are you planning to do that to me?"

"No, Hoshi." Shishou said, enfolding me in his arms. "You are already strong enough to stand at my side. Your techniques are perfect."

But to hear Kabuto tell me what he was about to do made me feel betrayed. As though Shishou had gone back on his promise.

"My eyes?" I whispered to myself. I tried to imagine what it would be like to have someone else's eyes in my skull and couldn't suppress a shudder. True, they would be bound to my own eyes, so they should be pretty much the same, right?

Unable to calm myself, I paid a visit to Kimimaro, though I had been reluctant to see him lately. His illness had grown worse and Kimimaro had to be moved into the medical center. I was afraid to see him this way. I had seen his condition was worsening and I knew he was dying, and I knew he would be pleased to see me before he died. But I dreaded the thought of him there and my visiting when he was going to die. I thought very highly of Kimimaro and I respected him. So, I went anyway.

"That is excellent news." Kimimaro said, after hearing my tale.

"It is?" I asked from my position on the floor by the bed; my back against the baseboard.

Kimimaro chuckled as he played with one of the thin side-braids framing my face. "It most certainly is. Not only will the Rinnegan restore your sight and prevent you from going blind, but will also put you closer to Lord Orochimaru. This is a sign, watashi no yûjin—my friend. Orochimaru-sama plans to use you for your talents in the future. Someday, you will return to his favor." He brushed his thumb against my cheek. "Aren't you pleased?"

I looked at him; my braids barely hiding the shamefulness in my eyes. "No."

"Why not?" Kimimaro asked, confused. "I thought all you ever wanted was to get back into his favor. What changed your mind?"

I took a deep breath. "Do you know where this Rinnegan came from?"

Kimimaro shook his head—I had looked at him after asking my question so I knew what his answer was.

"I didn't either." I said, turning away. "You see, Kabuto—when he told me the plan that was meant for my eyes—also said 'Orochimaru-sama recently obtained this special Dojutus', I began to wonder how he obtained it. So I did a little digging in Kabuto's records where I learned a great deal. Starting with its history.

"The Rinnegan was first wielded by a Shinobi known only as the Sage of Six Paths. He was a peace-loving Shinobi and a magnificent one at that. There are stories telling of his power and those same stories told of how he Sealed the Ten-Tailed Demon inside himself, how he split its power and formed nine entities—the Bijuu we know now. The stories also tell about his descendents—two sons who formed clans of their own. What isn't well known is that the second son (the one who possessed the Sage's eyes) had a son of his own who also possessed the Rinnegan. This son followed in his father and grandfather's footsteps, but he formed a clan separate from his brother, who had an anomaly now known as the Sharingan. The first son's clan bred many fine people who all possessed the Rinnegan and they only used this Dojutsu as a weapon of peace. Do you know what that clan was?" I faced him.

Kimimaro shook his head again.

"The Atamahage clan." I answered.

Kimimaro stared at me. "The Atamahage clan? Is—isn't that the clan you just—"

"Yes, Senpai. That is the very clan I annihilated."

I didn't miss the small smile spread across Kimimaro's face at the title of respect I just bestowed upon him. I could have allowed myself a moment of pleasure knowing he had accepted the title but didn't feel I had time. There was something I _had_ to say. I had to make him understand why I was so hesitant.

"Don't you get it, Kimimaro? That clan told us 'The land we are on has no ownership but our own. We signed an agreement with Moyagakure complete with a map of this region.' They told us there was no indication we existed. And they seemed surprised by our accusations." I continued.

Kimimaro was confused. "What exactly is it that I'm supposed to be seeing, Hoshi?" he asked. "Orochimaru-sama tricked you, is that it?"

"Exactly that!" I said, leaping up with frustration. "This plan was near-foolproof. They weren't sitting on our land at all! We were sent to kill them and retrieve the Rinnegan only so that I could have them. And if my Sharingan evolved into a Mangekyo—well—that would be just fine too." I fell silent and collapsed to my knees; hands on my face. "I can't accept them knowing they came from someone I killed. I just can't." I sobbed.

Kimimaro opened his arms to me and called me to him. I crawled to him and he enveloped me into his arms as best as he could. He gently stroked the nape of my exposed neck and felt my shoulders shake from each sob.

We stayed in that rather uncomfortable position for a time before Kimimaro spoke.

"Then think of it not as a war trophy, but as a monument to the clan you destroyed. Use it to honor them. Use it in their memory."

I considered the option—which hadn't been one _I_ even thought of, to be honest—and I realized that I did have another choice. I _could_ accept the Rinnegan and let it remind me of all the souls I had disposed of.

After a while, my tears had calmed and I pulled out of Kimimaro's embrace; wiping my eyes with the heel of my palm. I thanked Kimimaro for his advice.

Kimimaro laid back and folded his hands at his stomach. "You know, I had heard of the Sage of Six Paths People would speak highly of him; saying he was a fine leader and mentor. Others only believe he was a myth."

I smiled. "That's the way it always is. Eventually, you and I will fade into history; then legend, then myth, then out of existence. It's the way things are and will be."

Kimimaro regarded me with interest. "It doesn't have to be that way." he said. "In fact, if I survive this—if Kabuto finds a cure for my illness—I will be sure everyone I meet knows of you."

My smile widened. I reached out and rubbed Kimimaro's hand as gently as I could. "I will do the same." I promised.

I knew I could keep my promise, and it was a promise as I feared my friend would not live for much longer.

/|\

_I should start training._ I thought, huddled in a tight ball on the floor; staff in hand.

I didn't know how long I sat there—time is funny that way—but I knew I had been there a while. As much as it pained me not to train, I just couldn't do it. I couldn't explain my reasons why, only I just couldn't.

Part of it might have been my overuse of the Mangekyo. Already the accursed Dojutsu had taken much of my eyesight. Even my eyes had lost their luster and brightness.

Either way, they didn't sound like good enough excuses for me not to train.

I sighed and stood up. I made up my mind. I would only practice a little, then go to see Kimimaro—he needed a visitor.

Just as my hands clapped together into the Snake Handseal, a voice caused my blood to run cold.

"Hoshi—it's time."

I regarded Kabuto; showing nothing—no emotion at all—in my face. I didn't like what was going to happen, but I had no choice. If I decided I didn't want to do the procedure, Kabuto would either silver-tongue his way past my reluctance, or he would force me to do it. Either way, I _was_ going to get the next set of eyes whether I wanted them or not.

I took a deep breath and banished all feelings of dirtiness away.

"Okay." I said, following him down to the Medical Center. Once there, I saw Kimimaro who gave me an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. I nodded but didn't return either gesture.

"Hoshi. Come here and lay down." Kabuto firmly ordered.

I looked at him; my face still betraying nothing. Then, I approached, turned around, and jumped on the bed before lying down; crossing my arms over my chest. Kabuto carefully slid my headband from my forehead and laid it aside. Then wrapped my hair in a bun and stashed the lot into a plastic hair net to keep it clean.

"Nemuri." Kabuto said, sweeping his hand across my forehead and my eyes fluttered closed. I knew nothing more.


End file.
